


Summer wine

by acheforhim (oaknshild)



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Beach Sex, Cheesy, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Proud!Nigel, Sassy!Adam, SpacedogsSummer, Star Gazing, or something like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7432269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oaknshild/pseuds/acheforhim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Strawberries, cherries and an angel's kiss in spring</em>
  <br/>
  <em>My summer wine is really made from all these things...</em>
</p>
<p>Our boys take a break from the city and go for a few days by the seaside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [interlum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/interlum/gifts).



He's gathered everything, he’s sure, but looking over one more time won’t fucking hurt, right? So he checks all the items again, the list temporarily fresh in his mind: some snacks, a few fruits and his ever-adored peanut butter sandwiches; hot chocolate, some bottles of fucking orange soda and beers in the thermal bag; his red Marlboros and a lighter, clean blankets, a sweater (yes, he’s bringing a fucking sweater in case his darling can’t stand the fucking wind) and a flashlight in the backpack he's emptied to give room to the supplements for the evening.

 

He sighs again, a bit worried, afraid of forgetting anything. They won’t go far, but he won’t risk going back to the house just because he fucking left something behind. During these few years living together, they have shared a strange nearness, a novelty to both and yet completely welcome; their routines have been totally turned upside down because and for each other. Nigel has learnt to be more attentive to this sort of detail, or at least he's tried to: he, who forgets his fucking reading glasses and always leaves the small window of their bathroom open, he who never knows where the fuck his phone charger is. He isn’t a man that spends much time reconsidering his life choices or shit, but to hell if the boy didn't change him. No, not accurate: Adam has never tried to change him, he _knows_ exactly the energetic hurricane Nigel is. He knew the potential mess he was allowing into his unique world when they met in Vienna, he _loved_ him still and why he did so was something Nigel would never understand and would be forever grateful.

 

And Nigel fucking reciprocated it. Alright, that is a fucking understatement: it would take an entire hell to take him apart of his starman. Unless he fucking requires him to do so, which Nigel hopes he never does.

 

Fucking Adam.

 

Nigel turns to the giant four-poster bed behind him, dark woods and soft white sheets. He sighs deeply, hearing the calm waves against the shore and the birds squawking in the silent afternoon. “Those are most likely albatrosses, given our geographical localization”, Adam said, laughing at his partner's surprise: there were so fucking much of those fucking noisy birds. Nigel snorted quietly, smile widening. Knowing about a species of some fucking bird wasn't something overly incredible, but he had seen this a million times: it's awesome, the way Adam gathers information and turns it into something better, useful, beautiful. The brilliance of his boy's mind has never ceased to amaze him, a treasure that most assholes didn’t have the patience to wait for it to reveal itself. Adam never wants to show off, he simply tries to make sure Nigel _knows_ the correct information, even when he's sure Nigel won't remember it later. Nigel had figured this out some time ago, and also that the boy does it because he loves him. His smartass.

 

The salty humid air sticks his greying long hair into the back of his neck. It's so warm and cosy in the little charming house by the sea, a sensation so fucking good that grows and grows to the point Nigel starts considering to buy the place for them; Adam will love it if he does. He finally looks to the asleep man on the bed, following his curves and angles in a deliberate game to pleasure himself. The man is bared head to toe, pale white skin now rosy-reddish for the time they have spent under the sun (always with sunblock, although Adam tried unsuccessfully to make Nigel use it), the plump round frame of his ass covered with a thin blanket, tights slightly apart, lips partially open in his sleep, dark curls gone wild due to wind and salt water splayed around his head in a halo.

 

A fucking angel.

 

Nigel doesn't look away from the painting displayed before his eyes, remembering the old sculptures of naked men those guys carved out of the fucking marble. No one could be more gorgeous than his Adam, his naughty boy, his sweet darling, his lovebird. Before he can even think twice, Nigel is growling, low and deep, crawling over the bed and the Adonis laid there, mouth trailing fleeting kisses from the crook of his cheeks to his nape, tongue following the bones of his spine.

 

Adam wakes up with the sudden shift of the mattress, lightness invading the clear room and burning into his eyes as he brings a hand to rub them, yawning heavily and laughing under his breath. Shivers break through his muscles and he swallows hard when lips meet his neck, fingers shift his curls aside and a hand wanders to hold his hip and keep him down. He feels Nigel nuzzling behind his ear, placing a kiss right after, his stubble bringing goose bumps to Adam’s soft skin. He’s already hard, aligning himself to Adam again, the younger man quivering and pushing against him. Adam laughs, delighted, head buried in the pillows, invariably happy for having this noisy, fiery, passionate man. He isn’t very easy to be friends with, Adam had heard the argument many times before: too distant, too methodical, too… strange. It didn’t matter how smart or how successful and talented in his job he was - actually, it would only turn the situation worse to him, the beautiful weird machine. He had had some acquaintances and nice colleagues to whom he could small talk, although none of them had been as important to him, not even his late father, as Harlan had, his only true friend.

 

Then he met Nigel.

 

Nigel, with his cigarettes, odd shirts and gaudy tattoo; with his foul mouth, rough accent and rougher hands, as prone to violence as they are to caress him. Nigel, broad and tall, impatient with others, incredibly charming and affectionate when it comes to him. _Nigel_ , a powerful name to a powerful, remarkable, dangerous man.

 

Adam lifts his head, needy, seeking lips he knows so well. He kisses Nigel clumsily, his head heavy with sleep and dizzy for the blood that now flows to his hardening shaft. He grins, feeling a mirrored expression in his partner’s features. Their connection deepens as Adam cranes his neck towards the older man, velvet tongues sliding against each other, snarls coming from deep inside Nigel’s chest and reverberating through his own body. He’s shivering already, hips moving slowly to thrust against Nigel and into the bed, moaning for the sensation, when Nigel sits on his knees, splays his hands over his narrow hips and turns Adam to lay on his back, leaning in for another kiss, lazy and long.

 

Adam strokes the powerful arms of the man, gasping loudly as Nigel mouths his collarbones, then his neck and his jaw. He hovers his lips over Adam’s, mouthing a foreign curse when the boy starts moving again. So fucking amazing. He snarls, shutting his eyes to enjoy this, and laughs suddenly, a single loud note, shaking his head, before withdrawing completely. He lays at the empty side of the bed, looking to Adam, who’s now only a messy thing with a furrowed brow and a tilted head.

 

“W- What happened, Nigel?” He can feel his chest tightening, anxiety spread fast within him, staining his thoughts, speeding his heart. Has he done something unwanted? No, no, he tries to convince himself, otherwise Nigel wouldn’t be kissing his pointy shoulder nor touching his cheek. Then again, _this_ has… never happened before. Sensing his tension, the older man strokes his face, thumb rolling over the crooked lips of his beautiful darling.

 

“I wanted to wake you up, gorgeous, because the afternoon is so fucking beautiful now and-"

 

“Oh, tell me you didn’t wake me up just for _this_ ”, Adam moans and brings his hands to his eyes again, interrupting him mid-sentence and stealing a laugh from Nigel. He’s so beautiful, his spoiled brat, and he looks so young now, naked, sleepy, his light freckles more apparent by his new skin tone, his tummy still dirty from the mess they’ve done before. His chest feels awfully small, incapable to hold his own heart.

 

“No, of course I didn’t”, he says, embracing the boy. He could make up some silly story to convince Adam but so far honesty had been the best option between them: Adam can't lie to him, and lying to him in exchange seems fucking unfair. Adam deserves better than _that_ , and once he's chosen Nigel, Nigel will be the best man he manages -  right, now he's being fucking cheesy. Nigel still remembers the attentive eyes and pensive expression of Adam's when he told him everything, his whole past, and went through the gangs, Darko, the violence, the bloodbath, his divorce. He won't forget the faint imperceptible smile that came after some minutes, the whispered _thank you_. He sighs and continues. “You remember I went out last night, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, you couldn’t sleep. I wonder why, you’re always so calm”, Adam replies - he’s getting good at it – with a soft laugh. He can't stop _laughing_ these days, always smiling, grinning, cuddling, kissing, enjoying the sun, sharing his bed with the man he loves so entirely. He blushes a little and kisses the tanned palm to hide it.

 

Nigel’s fingers are now in his hair, pushing the curls from his forehead, and the man smiles as well. “Yeah, I fucking couldn’t, so I went out and found this place, not very far. Plus, it's fucking nice and I-”, he hesitates, “I thought we could see the stars tonight.”

 

Adam closes his eyes for a moment, his smile getting so wide it hurts, thankful for whatever in the world that had brought them together. “Okay”, he says at last, looking at the hazel eyes of his partner.

 

 

\---

 

Adam throws himself on the bed again, wet, bouncing, his flaccid cock a real temptation. "We probably won't need tuxedos, right?", he says suddenly, while his boyfriend dresses himself.

 

"I've created a fucking monster", Nigel laughs his complain. "Come now darling, or we'll lose the sunset", he pulls Adam by his arms, whom he chastely kisses after raising from bed. Nigel has put a grey t-shirt and navy shorts - a very sober palette, Adam notices, almost like his own. "Well, the stars will only be visible _after_ that", he points out, his lips on Nigel's. "You can kiss me for now."

 

"Don't play the smartass with me, gorgeous", Nigel replies with feigned irritation, both his hands grabbing Adam by the elbows, readily retreating as a groan comes naturally from his throat and the familiar heat pools inside his belly. He grabs one of the starman shirts from his bag, a blue one that goes perfectly with his eyes and scent, and offers it to him.

 

Adam rolls his eyes and accepts the shirt with a wry smile. It's halfway from him when he remembers that he has no shorts to go with that specific shade of blue, the only nice shorts he brought were the burgundy ones because he bought then to this trip, he had none before, and they're very comfortable and fit him very nicely, it has to be a nice clothing because he’s going out with Nigel and it’s just the both of them but it’s _Nigel_ and yet he hasn't thought of any combinations, he should have thought but he hasn't and now it's too late, now he has to use a blue shirt with something reddish brown, that won't work well and he will spend a nice evening with Nigel feeling all bothered because he's stupid and Nigel will notice and feel upset because _Adam_ will feel upset and unable to hide it and pretend he's not and- and-"Wait Ni,” he breathes deeply, “will you let me borrow one of your shirts? You're dressed like me, I thought I could do the same. Plus", he shyly adds, "your smell would be in me all night."

 

Nigel's cock stirs violently with the words alone, as he purrs and ambushes a very giggly Adam onto the bed. Fucking naughty, this oh so angelical boy. "Careful, baby, we don't wanna break you right now." He licks the marble column of his throat. "You fucking won't break _me_ anyway."

 

"Won't I?", Adam asks, a mischievous look in his eyes, a hand following Nigel's hardness through the man's pants. Nigel gaps, his eyes closing unwillingly, a hot moaning warming his ear. "It seems I already did."

**Author's Note:**

> I've started this quite some time ago, I'm not an English native speaker and it's my first "big" and explicit fic so yeah, I'm pretty nervous. Any comments will be heartily appreciated. :)
> 
> By the way, I know talking about autism isn't an easy issue when you're not in the spectrum and I hope my depiction isn't offensive or demeaning in any way. Adam's sassiness, humour and quick train of thought were inspired by a fascinating guy, who also happened to be autistic. :)


End file.
